Unwilting
by Dear Aunt Elladora
Summary: Neville Longbottom has a suprise encounter with Luna Lovegood in a graveyard. A short, slightly romantic, and light one shot.


_"Waiting on you is just like waiting for rain in this drought - pointless and dissapointing."_** -Sam from Cinderella Story**

It's July, and a muggy heat envelopes the graveyard. Neville takes a deep breath, casting a look up at the darkened sky that threatens rain to fall any moment. He speeds his pace a bit, clucking his tongue to his teeth and gripping the yellow rose in his hand. It was a special brand he was quite proud of, he himself had developed it in his Gram's backyard where he kept a small garden of experimental plants.

He has a rountine now, coming to greet the grave every two weeks when he's away from school. He reaches the grave and leans to place the flower in front, saying a short prayer and he sighs, looking around the empty, aged graveyard. He thinks it's empty, as it usually is, until he catches sight of a girl, sitting in front a grave and singing it a soft song.

The tune kindof swims toward him in the air, the back of the girl visible. There's a thick, straw-blond braid she's got in front her shoulder, a skirt flowing around her and a blue camisole around her torso. The words are fuzzy but the tune is familiar, and the scene kind of breaks his heart.

The song stops as she stands, and turns to find him looking at her. As she walks closer, he recognizes her. She's picking at a strand of grass and there is a dandylion tucked behind her ear. He's frozen in the heavy air and she stands beside him, looking down at the grave. She's at least a foot shorter than he is and leans down to kiss the grave in front of him, the stands.

"Hello, Mister Neville." She says, "And who is your friend?" she indicates the grave.

"My uncle Algie."

"He was a very nice man," she states airily, not taking her eyes off the grave.

He looks at her sideways and quizically questions her, "You knew him?"

"No," she replies, turning her bright blue eyes to his, "That's not a normal rose."

"You're right," he says, smiling a bit.

She continues, breaking eye contact to study the rose, "It never wilts."

"Correct again."

"How'd you get a yellow rose that would never wilt?"

He grins brightly now, "I made it." And she nods her head and smiles, inplying congratulations. He understands.

"I heard you sing," he says, and her smile fades a little, as she looks at the grave where she had been sitting.

"It was the Gorlack Fonhicans national anthem," she sighs here, looking back at him. He supresses a look of confusion, but nods, and she contines, "Mum's favorite."

"It's a very pretty song," he manages to say to break the silence, looking her in the eye.

"Yes, it is. It's a shame that so little people know of it."

He takes a deep breath, "But that happens alot, something is great and ignored."

She blinks, hiding her eyes for a moment to respond, "Yes, it is." Her voice is light, and soft.

"Luna, I want to as-" in the middle of his sentiment, she covers his mouth with her tiny hand. She removes it, looking up. The rain has started falling, and she's told him in the past it's a signal from some odd creature he can't remember that what's going on can be stopped. So he takes her hand in his and they run down the hill of the graveyard til they find covering. She runs off toward her home, her brown shoes flip flopping mud onto her faded skirt.

"Luna!" he calls after her, and she turns, her hair drenched and her braid dripping. She looks positively angelic, if you were to ask him.

"Same time next week?" he yells to her far-away self and she hesitates a moment, then nods her head.

* * *

**Author's note: **yes, the government hath stole my toad. And I wrote in present tense, Fu-u-u-un! I meant the ending to mean they meet every week, though it seems like it was a chance meeting, when really it wasn't. Luna wasn't random (phooey), just very out of it, in the bright way. Hah. Well, I heart this pairing, and that is that. I think it's set summer before sixth or seventh year. I really don't have much to say... but, "theirloveissobotanical!"

**_Review, please?_**


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